Monday, October 24, 2011

The Call of Mt. Hope Cemetery

The Berry family plot beckons visitors in Afton's Mt. Hope Cemetery.

A little-known piece of St. Croix Valley history slumbers in the peaceful hills above Afton.

By KarlBremer

Above the sleepy St. Croix River town
of Afton in the late 1960s, an
axle-challenging, one-lane road carved a steep path up a wooded hillside to an
ancient, unkempt cemetery on top that was straight out of Edgar Allen Poe. It
wasn’t on any map or in any guide book. You pretty much had to be taken there
by someone in the know, but if you grew up here, that wasn’t hard to find.

We knew the old graveyard simply as the OldAftonCemetery
back then; its official name is Mt.HopeCemetery. It was the kind of place
you discovered as a teenager when you wanted to do things you couldn’t do at
home. You know, catch a buzz, cop a feel. The more remote the better. For most
of us, that meant as soon as we knew someone with a driver’s license. We always
assumed it was sort of legal to be up there, but such details would have
mattered little then anyway.

William J. Owen died October 28, 1866.

The cemetery had no apparent boundaries. There was no sign
announcing your arrival. It just sort of ethereally appeared on the side of the
road when you reached the top of the hill. Remnants of tombstones leaned
against trees scattered deep in the woods. A small grove of cedar trees in formation like whispering sentries with crumbling, lichen-etched headstones
propped against their peeling trunks. A creepy family plot bound by a disheveled
wrought-iron fence with a clanking gate that dared you to come inside.

Oddly enough, ghosts were never part of the lore of the OldAftonCemetery,
but that didn’t stop us from looking for them. Whatever spirits may have been
up there kept to themselves, because we never saw anything of another world. We
revered the graveyard as a kind of sacred grounds not to be disturbed, but
weren’t aware of the true historical significance of the ground—and the unmarked
graves below—that we were treading on.

Several Civil War veterans are buried among the 40 marked
graves here; more are likely buried in the estimated 60 unmarked graves
scattered throughout the woods, says Ken Martens, vice president with the Afton
Historical Society who has extensively researched Mt. Hope Cemetery and its occupants. Martens led a tour of the graveyard on a brisk October
afternoon recently for about 85 of the cemetery-curious.

The first grave in Mt.HopeCemetery
that was marked with a monument was in 1854. Prior to that it was just a
“burial ground,” Martens explained, with many graves marked only with rocks for
headstones and footstones.

The cemetery was officially dedicated in 1855 on 5 acres
donated by the Haskell and Getchell families, two of Afton’s
earliest settlers. Charles Getchell had a sawmill and a grocery in Afton
and later was a Quartermaster for the Union in the Civil
War. Charles’ wife, Electa, is credited with naming Afton
after a Robert Burns poem, “Afton Water.” Both Charles and Electa are buried in
Mt.Hope.

Sam Paterson built Afton’s first
hotel. It burned down and in 1861, he also joined the Quartermaster Corps. When
he returned from the war, he started a general store in Afton
with his only surviving son. Another son, a daughter and his wife preceded him
in death. They’re buried in a small plot Martens called “Paterson
Square.”

Isaac Van Vleck, a Stillwater
lawyer, lost a grandson in 1861 and the following year, joined the 8th
Minnesota Volunteer Infantry Regiment at the age of 50. He went west with the
Regiment to fight the Indians at the Sioux frontier, including the Battle of
Killdeer Mountain in North Dakota in 1864. He was also at the surrender of the Confederate
Armies in 1865. Van Vleck died in 1880 and is buried at Mt.Hope, along with his seven-year-old
grandson, Willy Van Vleck.

Rev. Simon Putnam, one of at least fourCivil War veterans buried in Mt. Hope.

Rev. Simon Putnam lived in what is known as Afton’s
“Little Red House” when he organized the village’s first congregational church.
He was a chaplain with the 3rd Minnesota Volunteer Infantry Regiment
and helped recruit many of its volunteers, according to Mertens. His son, Myron,
also signed up. He and his son fought the Indians at the Wood Lake Battle in Yellow Medicine County, Minnesota, in 1862
when they returned from the war but both died shortly after they were
discharged and are buried at Mt.Hope.

The Berry
family occupies the plot inside the wrought-iron fence. David Berry left England
in his 30s and came to America
to fight the Seminole Indian wars in Florida.
He returned to England
twice and came to Minnesota on his
third visit to America.
He went up north to work in the lumber camps of the “pineries” and then he and
his wife, Elizabeth, settled in Afton. Their son,
Charles, was the first marked burial in Mt.Hope in 1854. His seven-year-old
brother, Henry, died the following month. David Berry was the last recorded
burial in Mt.Hope
in 1892, until the city approved a special burial there in 2004.

The Guernsey family plot is inside the stately cedar grove. Known to be buried here are Bertha C., Edward H., George A., Josephine E., and Rolla A. Guernsey. Others are likely there, but the tombstones are so badly damaged and scattered it’s hard to discern who belongs where.

The Cushing family plot is marked by an unusual monument
made of “New Jersey zinc.” Charles
Cushing arrived here in the 1850s and volunteered with the 7th
Minnesota Infantry Regiment in 1864 when they offered him a $100 bounty.They made him a musician and after serving in
Alabama, he returned to open Afton’s
second hotel, The Cushing House, which today is the Afton House Inn. Up to six
Cushings could be buried in this plot, according to records posted at the
cemetery.

The three Stouffer children buried here died within three weeks of each other.

A lone monument in the woods marks the grave of the three
Stouffer children—George W. (7 yrs.), Amanda J. (3 yrs.) and John A. (5
yrs.)—who died within three weeks of each other in June 1855. One source
attributed it to “putrid sore throat,” an infection that took the lives of many children during that era.

﻿﻿﻿﻿﻿﻿﻿﻿

Martens demonstrated the fascinating technique he uses to
search for unmarked graves in the “burial grounds” part of the cemetery. Tramping
through thickets of buckthorn, he paused at a small spot that was free of the
invasive brush. Buckthorn doesn’t grow in areas where the soil has been
disturbed, Martens said, hinting that a grave might be below.

Ken Martens uses a small rake to locateunmarked graves in Mt. Hope Cemetery.

He scratched around the opening with a small, long-handled rake in search of a particular type of sedge grass that remains green even through the winter. This was planted on top of graves much like the plantings of evergreens, a part of the “cemetery culture.” When he finds some in the buckthorn opening, he gets down to inspect the ground closer, tracing the sedge grass plot and looking for large stones that may have served as a headstone or footstone but are now hidden under years of decaying grass and leaves. A slight depression in the ground between two such stones may be further evidence of a burial below. Then magically, the faint outline of a grave long ago consumed by Mother Nature becomes visible. How many more are hidden in this old hill?

By 1870, cemeteries were required to keep paper records of
their burials. But because no cemetery association for Mt.Hope had ever formed, this was
never done for the little graveyard on the hill. Now, laments Martens, “We’re
losing our history because all we have are the stones.”

Edith O. McDonald’s grave was particularly nettlesome for
Martens to decipher. It was marked by a simple stone in the woods away from the
other gravesites. The year of death chiseled in it was “185?” with the fourth
numeral illegibly chipped. Martens deduced that a “3” or an “8” were the most
likely numerals to have chipped off.

After researching census, newspaper and Civil War records
for years in his quest to identify every possible grave in Mt.Hope, Martens eventually came
across an item in an area newspaper about a local couple named “McDonald” who had
died in a ferry accident on the Mississippi River at Hastings
in January 1858. They had a child who had died earlier, so with all the other pieces in place, Martens determined
that child was Edith and that she had died in 1853.

“It only took me 40 years,” Martens laughed.

Here lies C.A. Wemple (no date).

Mt.HopeCemetery gets a little more
attention these days but is by no means a popular tourist Mecca.
Afton Coulee Ridge Road,
the name given to the rutted trail we used to navigate up the hill to the OldAftonCemetery,
is slightly better maintained, but it remains relatively unknown to anyone but St.
CroixValley
locals and cemetery hunters. There’s a single parking spot for visitors off to
the side before you reach the top. A kiosk built by Eagle Scout Garren
Riemenschneider of Afton’s Troop 226 in November 2005 informs
visitors about the known burials and shows a map of the archeological survey
done there in 2000.

The old observatory platform is barely standing.

An old wooden observatory platform in the woods on the edge of the hillside is still standing, but the once-breathtaking vista of the Afton Hills it afforded is now obscured by full-grown trees.

Patrick Tierney, who was involved with the Afton Historical
Society for many years and had a special interest in the preservation of Mt.
Hope Cemetery, was buried here at the age of 52 in 2004 after the Afton City
Council granted special permission to his wish.

“Patrick Tierney thought that if he were buried here,
somebody would always take care of this place,” says Martens.

Other than Tierney, the cemetery has seen no burials since
David Berry was put to rest here in 1892. What little maintenance that gets
performed on this hidden gem sequestered in the hills above Afton
is done by volunteers like Martens. It's an ongoing task because with every new generation comes a new round of vandalism, he sighs.

I still get up to the OldAftonCemetery
at least once a year. It usually calls in the fall when the ghosts of lives
past stir old dreams from their cobwebs. No matter how many times I return, I
always know it won’t be my last. That visit will be when my roasted bones are
scattered beneath the cedar trees of Mt.Hope to mingle with the rest,
waiting to send shivers up the spines of future generations of youthful
visitors.

That’s one trip up the hill to the Old Afton Cemetery I’m in
no hurry to make.

Ripple in Stillwater

Ripple in Stillwater is the sole creation of Stillwater, Minnesota, writer Karl Bremer. It covers whatever captures the author's muse at the moment. You can reach Ripple in Stillwater at saintcroix-at-aol-dot-com, or you can follow me on Twitter @kdbremer. If you're wondering about the name of this blog, go here.

Minnesota Society of Professional Journalists 2011 Page One Award Winner

Ripple in Stillwater author Karl Bremer won Second Place in the Minnesota Society of Professional Journalists 2011 Page One Awards for "Best Use of Public Records."

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